


I'm Not Hungry

by castielsstarr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4852472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsstarr/pseuds/castielsstarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean always sees Castiel having lunch with his friends, but he's never eating anything. Not knowing why bothers him and he wants to know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> Submission for the September Supernatural Writing Challenge. Prompt: Lunch Money
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr:  
> SPN NSFW Multi-ship sideblog: [wingedwincest.tumblr.com](http://www.wingedwincest.tumblr.com)  
> Main blog: [castielsstarr.tumblr.com](http://www.castielsstarr.tumblr.com)

Dean moved to bring a fry to his lip, but missed and nudged the tip of it up his nose. Oh, dammit. He surreptitiously looked around, making sure no one had seen his flub up. No one was paying attention, luckily. He munched slowly on the fry, his eyes fixed firmly on the senior boy that he’d been watching every day during lunch.

He knew his name was Castiel, that he was a senior, and that Dean had a huge crush on him. Sure, they were in PE together, but Dean had never really conversed with Castiel in any substantial manner. He had talked to him only a small handful of times; once in chemistry class, once when they were waiting for the buses, and once when he ran smack dab into the older boy in the hallway. Dean had been so embarrassed.

Castiel sat with his friends, laughing and talking with them, but he wasn’t eating at all. Dean hadn’t seen him eat lunch for the last two weeks, and yeah, it didn’t seem to bother the senior boy, but it bothered him. _I’ll give him two more days_ , he thought. _If he doesn’t eat in the next two days, I’m going to bring in something for him for lunch_.

He wouldn’t have to wait the two days. Day one and, of course, nothing. Castiel smiled and laughed with his friends, seemingly no concerns. But why didn’t he ever have a lunch? Dean bit into his sandwich almost angrily. Stupid person was supposed to take care of himself.

Halfway through lunch, most of Castiel’s friends left, leaving only a few left at the table with him. Dean heaved a sigh and fingered the bag of potato chips he hadn’t gotten around to eating yet. Maybe… maybe he would take them over and give them to him? Would that be insulting? He wasn’t trying to be, he just wanted to make sure everything was ok.

Dean huffed out another breath, gathered his tray up and stood. He dumped everything in the trash except for the bag of chips and approached Castiel’s table.

The senior boy looked up at Dean, his expression blank, but still kind. He didn’t smile or anything, he just seemed… open to the conversation that was about to happen.

“So, um, hello, Castiel, isn’t it?” Dean tripped over each word slightly and the sentence came out choppy and stuttered.

The boy gave a light grin at the younger one’s efforts. Castiel looked to his friends and murmured a polite, “Could you give us a moment, please? I’ll meet you in study hall in a minute.” With his attention back to Dean, he gestured to the table. Dean shifted closer and took the seat directly across from him.

“So,” Dean started up again, his nerves no less frazzled than they were, “I know you don’t know me, but I’m—”

“Dean Winchester, eleventh grade. Of course I know who you are. And please, it’s Cas. Castiel always sounds so stuffy.”

Dean’s expression fluctuated between smiley and flustered. Cas knew who he was. Oh shit, Cas knew who he was. “Um, yeah. Anyways, I just wanted to bring you these. I saw that you haven’t brought anything in to eat the last few weeks and, um… I just thought maybe you might be hungry today.” He slid the bag of chips across the table until they nudged Castiel’s fingers resting on the table top. “I wasn’t going to eat them and I thought maybe you would like them.”

Cas smiled then and, god, it was bright. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you, Dean. I don’t need to eat lunch, but I won’t turn down a bag of chips.” He cracked open the package of chips and crunched into one immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s no problem, man. Just, are you sure you don’t need to bring lunch? I mean, you’re putting away those chips really fast.”

Cas took a breath and looked inside the bag. He really had inhaled over half of it in just the minute that Dean had been standing in front of him. Clearly he’d been hungrier than he anticipated being. He chuckled a little and set the bag down. “No, no, it’s fine. I just,” he cleared his throat, “this one is my favorite.”

“Ok.” The bell rang loud in the cafeteria. “I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

“I’ll see you in gym class, Dean.” And he winked. Cas flat out winked at him. The heat didn’t so much creep up Dean’s cheeks as just explode there. He was fine and then suddenly he was blushing like a fool.

* * *

 

For the umpteenth time, Dean checked out Castiel when he emerged from the locker room in his gym uniform. The only difference this time was that Cas looked back at him. He smiled at Dean and moved to the sidelines, waiting for direction from their gym teacher.

Dean just swallowed tightly and averted his gaze to the painted line on the floor that was touching the tips of his toes. He tried not to think of the shirt clinging lightly to Cas’ frame. And, REALLY, he did try not to think about the shorts they were all required to wear. The shorts that really were long enough, almost all the way to the knees, but for some reason Cas had his rolled up two inches shorter than everyone else.

As the seniors started off the laps that morning, it was hard not to watch Cas’ pale, inner thighs. His legs were strong and thick, and dammit. He needed to stop thinking about this. About him. Dean had always thought the older boy was cute, but today he was just downright distracting. Castiel kept lapping him every once in a while, too. Whenever he did, he would shoot Dean a glance over his shoulder and then keep going.

After their laps and then an hour of basketball practice, they were all heading back to the locker room to change when Dean felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Cas, running a towel across his face, drying off the sweat.

“Hey, get changed and then walk me to my car?” Cas smiled at Dean’s slightly startled but adamant reply of, “yes.”

* * *

 

Dean grabbed his back and headed from the locker room toward the side door of the building. It was closest to the student parking lot and likely where Cas wanted to meet him. The senior boy was waiting for him outside the door, leaned up against the brick of the building, one foot propped against the wall. “Took you long enough,” he joked with a smile.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find my other shoe. One of the guys tried to hide it from me.”

Castiel tisked at him, “I suppose I’ll allow your tardiness this time. I wouldn’t do it next time if I were you, though.” He winked and the two started off toward Cas’ car.

Dean looked at him with the blush already tinting his cheeks. “Next time?” he dared to ask.

“Yes, next time. You seem interesting and I’d like to talk with you more. You’re welcome to come sit with me tomorrow during lunch.”

“That would be really nice.” Dean hesitated for a moment. “But um, hey, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why don’t you ever eat lunch? I’ve seen you only eat just a small handful of times.”

Castiel slowed before stopping completely in the middle of a parking lot row. He sighed and looked at the ground, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t talk about this with people, but—but I trust you, I think.”

Dean backtracked. “Look, if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s ok. I don’t eat lunch because my dad doesn’t have a lot of money. And by not a lot, I mean very little. So, I’ve always thought it was more important to make sure that my little brother has lunch. So, Dad gives me the money and I always give it to Gabriel. I’ve adapted to not eating; most days I’m not even hungry.”

Without thinking about it, Dean reached out and touched Cas’ hand. He didn’t take it in his, didn’t give him a comforting squeeze, just lightly brushed his fingertips over the back of his hand. It was a hesitant movement. “I’ll bring us something for lunch tomorrow, if that’s ok. My mom’s not a bad cook and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

Cas smiled softly and leaned in, gently placing a peck on Dean’s cheek. “Thank you. That’d be nice.”


End file.
